Amnesty
by PusillanimousBitch1138
Summary: This story is post-Sarah, about 40 years since she beat the Labyrinth. This centers around her daughter, Jacqueline (the French Jacqueline, not Jack-e-lynn) and her exploration of self-discovery after the tragic death of her father. Not-asshole-JarethxOC, rated M for themes of depression and suicide and eventually sex.
1. Chapter 1

*****I don't own Labyrinth, although I wouldn't mind if I did. *****

 **This story is post-Sarah, maybe 30-40 years since she beat the Labyrinth. This centers around her daughter, Jacqueline (the French Jacqueline, not Jack-e-lynn) and her exploration of self-discovery after the tragic death of her father. Not-asshole-JarethxOC, rated M for themes of depression and suicide and eventually sex.**

* * *

I woke to my mother's cackling laughter and sighed. My fat, yellow chihuahua, Twinkie, slowly crawled his way out from under my blankets and followed me out of my room and into the bathroom. He laid on the floor outside the shower as I bathed myself, and when I went back to my room to dress, he ventured off to go outside. My blue tabby cat, Jason, watched me dress with flicking tail and alert eyes. I eyed him warily as I pulled up my raggedly-cutoff shorts. The strings tickled my legs and I could feel Jason's eyes watching them, could sense his muscles tensing for the kill. They were ridiculously cut, actually longer on the sides than in between my thighs due to the thigh death they had experienced before I cut them. My mother called them my "Daisy Dukes" but I didn't care. Good shorts are hard to find in my size, let alone good ones that I actually think make me look kinda sexy.

I stepped quietly out of my room and glided down the stairs to the kitchen where I took a large green apple from the counter. My mother was still laughing and chatting with someone from the living room. Curious, I tiptoed my way to the door and listened.

"Oh, that was such a long time ago," said my mother's tired old voice.

"Indeed it was, Sarah." I frowned. This was a man's voice. A youngish man. I looked across the hallway to the urn containing my father's ashes and narrowed my eyes. "And yet pesky little Hedgehog ( _"Hoggle_ ," said my mother) refuses to give me any privacy. Claims I'm plotting to ruin your life again." They both chuckled.

"Oh, Jareth, it seems we have company. You can come in, dear."

I sighed and pulled the hood of my hoodie up, poking my head through. I waved my apple halfheartedly.

"Jack, I want you to meet someone." My mother gestured towards the stranger in the chair with the back to me. I shook my head and tried to back out of the room when she rose and took my hand. "Yes, come on." She pulled me around to the front of the chair and I blanched slightly. The man sitting in it was unearthly beautiful. I swallowed dryly as I drank in his mismatched blue and brown eyes, his messy , short hair, his creamy skin, the grace with which he held himself. "Jareth, this is my daughter, Jacqueline. Jack, this is one of my oldest friends, Jareth."

Jareth rose from the chair with absurd ease and bowed. He took my hand in his, and brushed his lips against my knuckles. I shuddered involuntarily. "It's a pleasure, Jacqueline."

I swallowed again and nodded shakily, fighting a blush from rising in my cheeks. I hurried quickly out of the room, Twinkie following me from the dog door.

* * *

"So. That's her then?"

"Yes. That's her."

"She certainly is a strange creature. But, then again, I suppose she takes after her mother." Jareth smiled at Sarah as he sat back down, crossing his legs.

Sarah chuckled and reclaimed the couch, shooing away the cat. "Yes, I suppose she does."

"And such blue eyes. I suppose she gets those from her father?"

"Yes, and her singing power as well. I wish you could hear her sing, Jareth. I promise you there is nothing like it in the Underground. There's hardly anything like it here in the Aboveground."

"Well, why not ask her to sing?" Jareth tilted his head inquisitively. Sarah had missed that.

"She doesn't speak. She hasn't spoken a word since the accident." She looked down at her loosely clasped hands and felt the tears threaten to well up again. She could sense Jareth's understanding nod. "I have a favor to ask of you, Jareth."

"Anything, Sarah. As always, I am your slave, denial or no denial." He smiled gently at the woman.

Sarah looked up at him and brushed her dark brown hair behind her ear. "I wish... Oh I don't know how to explain this. She isn't fit for life up here, not in the mental state she's in. It's been six years now and medications don't work, nor does therapy. I'm afraid for her life. I'm afraid that one day I'm going to wake up and she's going to be lying in her bed... gone. So, Jareth, I would ask of you that you take my daughter Underground and help her through her pain. I know there's nothing more I can do."

Jareth smiled sadly and crossed the room to the aging woman. He knelt in front of her and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "You only have to say the words, my darling." He smiled up at her, taking her hands in his. "Your heart may not be mine, but I'm still happy to do anything you desire, sweetest Sarah. You need only say the words."

Sarah giggled softly and shakily. "I wish... I wish the Goblin King would help my daughter be well again."

Jareth's smile widened and he leaned down, kissing the hands of the Champion. "Your wish is my command, my dear."

And Sarah watched as Jareth disappeared before she went to the staircase. "Jack, honey, are you up there?" She listened for a moment but heard only the light thud of Twinkie jumping from Jack's bed and scuttling to the top of the stairs. He stood looking down at her, wagging his tail happily. She ascended the craeky old staircase and looked into Jack's room. The girl was gone. She crossed to the desk and picked up the well-worn copy of The Labrynth that Sarah had given Jack and held it to her heart. She looked up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. "Keep her safe, Jareth."

* * *

 **So, yeah, first chapter. I'm sorry if it's not that great. It's been ages since I tried writing anything that wasn't grammar-less poetry. I also don't have word so my spelling will probably be not 100% right all the time. Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I would like to take this moment to say that I haven't read the book adaptation of the movie, nor have I read the manga, so everything I know about Labrynth is literally the movie. That's it. So, I'm sorry if the post-movie material strayed or explained something differently. Thank you.**

I took my apple up to my room and rubbed at my eyes. Twinkie had followed me up the stairs and he struggled to pull his fat self up onto my bed. I smiled slightly and gave him the boost he needed. I began to burrow furiously into my bed and I turned to my mirror. I looked at myself and took a tiny bite of the apple. My shorts, cutoffs, showed off the beginning of a fat roll in my thighs, but I didn't mind. My leg hair was growing darker the longer I went without shaving, but I didn't mind. I had on a pair of Chucks, giving me a stouter-legged appearance. I eyed them fondly. They were black, but my step-gran had ordered them for me, custom made for Christmas this year past. On the outer sides of each shoe were Cheshire Cat designs from Alice in Wonderland. The left shoe had the words "We're all mad here" written on it, and the right shoe had the Cat's face. Not the Disney cat, but the 2010 film Cat. That version was my favorite. I eyed them with a smile on my face, and I took another bite of my apple. My hoodie was purposely two sizes too large, and it fell almost as far as my shorts went. I liked the way it made me seem smaller than I was. I reached for my green bandanna and hid my short, bed-headed brown hair behind it and self consciously touched my eyebrow piercing. It still hurt from the original piercing three weeks ago and I smiled faintly. I looked badass, as badass as a 19 year old nerd still living with her mother can look. I went to take another bite of the apple, and as my lips touched its smooth green skin, I felt my body grow heavy with the burden of sleep. I fell to the floor and as my eyes closed, I could have sworn I saw a pair of men's dress boots walking towards me.

Jareth took the sleeping girl in his arms. For a person of her height and weight, it was surprisingly easy for him to carry her. He took a crystal ball in hand and willed it take them to the Underground. He looked down at Jack's face and smiled slightly. She looked so much like her mother.

He threw the ball at his feet and felt the familiar weightlessness of suspension as the crystal transported them through the realms. He landed with nary a sound in the very same spot as the one Sarah had arrived in the Underground at. The Labyrinth lay sprawled out before him, but instead of a desolate browness, it had been encompassed in thick, green ivy that sprawled over every stone and into every crevice. It softened the harshness of the sun. He gently lay the girl at the base of the skeleton tree and waved his hand. The countryside behind him disappeared suddenly as a wall rose and stretched as far as the eye could see. She would have no choice now but to enter the Labyrinth.

"Be safe, young Jack. Be strong." He stood a moment longer, watching the shadows of the tree dance among the girl's pale face before he took spun on heel and took his owl form. He flew to his castle and took his throne, watching her from a crystal.

"Damned fairies. I'm getting right sick of this stupid chore. Ooh! Another. 63."

I rubbed my face tiredly and licked my lips. They still tasted like the juice from my apple. I looked at it in my hand and sighed slightly. It was already decaying. I set it down before I noticed I was not, in fact, in my room anymore. Below my hand was a half dead grass. I frowned and ran my hand through it before I stood and looked at the sight before me. As far as I could see stood a labyrinth, winding, endless. In the center there looked to be a good sized gap and I could see faint smoke clouds rising. I turned to look behind me and found only wall. There was no way I could climb it, even if I had had the physical strength to do so, and there seemed to be no way around it.

"64. Ah. Ah ha! 65!"

I turned towards the voice and walked slowly down the hill. I looked around as I went before I found the ugliest looking thing I had ever seen. It stood about three feet tall, it's head taking up most of the length. It's nose was bulbous and quite offputting. It's skin looked like it was nothing but acne scars. It stood completely still, looking at me with hanged mouth. It held in its hands an old fashioned spray gun, half released. I frowned slightly. 'What an ugly statue,' I thought.

"Sarah?" I squeaked and jumped back as the statue came to life. The creature took a tentative step towards me before it lunged at me. I squealed and tried to dive out of the way, but it had grabbed me by the waist. I swatted at its head, flailing wildly. It seemed to realize something was wrong and it stepped back. Frowning, it looked up at me and placed its hands on its hips. "You're not Sarah, are you?"

I shook my head wildly, stepping back from the thing.

"You look just like her, albeit quite bigger." It looked at my waist and I narrowed my eyes, fists clenching. "Now, now, I meant no disrespect. If you look like her this much, you must be... a relative?"

I nodded and crossed my arms. Its eyes grew wide as it took in my face. "You're not... her... _daughter_?" it gasped.

I nodded.

"My god. It hasn't been nearly long enough for her to be a mother. I just don't beli-AH!" It lunged forward and sprayed a flying thing with the cannister. The thing fell to the ground and coughed. I narrowed my eyes and leaned down to inspect it, before I gasped slightly. It was a girl, a winged girl, no bigger than my palm. She looked up at me with bright green eyes hidden behind her light brown hair and she pouted. I went to touch it before the ugly guy spoke. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." I looked at him and pulled my hand away. "Your mom did the same thing and nearly lost a finger." I looked at the farie and stood again, stuffing my hands in my pocket. I looked at the creature pointedly. "Oh, er, right. I'm Hoggle. I was a close friend of your mother's."

I blinked slightly. 'Hoggle. Where did I... OH! Mum and that guy were talking about a Hoggle...' I looked back at the creature and then pointed towards the maze.

"What's the matter, girl, fairy got your tongue?" He noticed my finger. "Oh. That's the Labyrinth." His eyes grew wide and he dropped the canister. "He wants you to..." His face hardened and he kicked the canister. "Damn you, Jareth!" he yelled to the sky.

I narrowed my eyes at the name. 'Jareth. That guy. But.. I don't...'

"You have to beat the Labyrinth, I bet. Did you make some sort of wish?"

I scoffed and shook my head. 'Wishes are for children,' I thought.

"It must have been someone else then. Well. I suppose I should show you the entrance. The sooner you beat it, the sooner you can go home and go on with your life."

I looked down at my shoes and nudged the dirt slightly. 'Do I even want to go home?' I asked myself. I waited for an answer and I didn't get one.

Hoggle gestured for me to follow him, talking as he went. "You see, this here is the Underground. I'm a Dwarf. The thing in the center of the Labyrinth is the Goblin City. It's ruled by a guy called Jareth. He's the Goblin King. He's the reason you're here, I'll bet my bottom ruby. Anyways, you arrived at the entrance, so the only way to get out is to find the exit. And no, I can't help you. Last time I helped somebody I got put on duty for the Bog of Eternal Stench."

I scoffed at the name and followed him to the entrance. He looked at me, and I at him. "Now, in the Labyrinth, things aren't always what they seem. You have to think outside the box sometimes. That's the only advice I can give you. Oh and say, kid, if you make it through... Tell your mom we miss her, ok? And give that arse Jareth a kick to the shin for me, would ya?"

I nodded slightly and he opened the heavy doors with quite a bit of difficulty. I stepped over the threshold and waited until I heard the booming thud of them closing before I began to walk.


	3. Chapter 3

When the doors shut, the thud they emitted vibrated my soul. I looked back at it for a moment before I looked ahead and immediately frowned. Before me were five immediate paths. I chewed my lip for a minute before I decided to take the path in the middle. Symmetry is very important to me.

The path took me through several spirals and unending turns, left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right, right, right. I have literally no idea how I wasn't hitting dead ends or crossing paths. After what felt like hours, I looked up into the darkening sky and felt tears well up in my eyes. 'I'm never going to get out of here,' I thought. I went to the nearest corner and sat down among the vines. My stomach was growling and as the sun disappeared over the farthest wall, I instantly felt a chill in my exposed legs. I pulled them in and under my hoodie and leaned into the corner, letting myself fall asleep.

* * *

Jareth watched her sleep from a crystal ball for a while before he rose from his casual perch in his throne. The goblin rabble that constantly surrounded him in the throne room all paused and looked at him as he crossed the room to the window. He leaned against the door frame and found himself humming a familiar tune, one that he could not place. It was not his own, that much was for sure, but he had no trouble remembering its simplistically complicated rhythm. He felt a crystal involuntarily form in his hand and he held it out to the nighttime air. It glowed with a soft bluish haze for a moment before it rose from his hand and drifted out towards the Labyrinth. He watched curiously as it dove smoothly into the winding passage ways and disappeared from his sight. When he brought out a new crystal to check on the sleeping girl, he saw the crystal had crept upon her and was currently surrounding her in blue light. She did not stir, and the ball did not move. As Jareth looked closer at the image in his palm, he noticed a small smile upon the slumbering girl's rosy lips and felt one creep upon his face. "She sure does look like you, sweet Sarah," he whispered to nobody.

"Sire?" said a particularly ugly goblin to his right.

He glared at it and turned, flaring his cape out as he did, and stalked out of the room and to his bed chambers, grumbling about the invasive nature of goblins.

* * *

I somehow didn't wake through the night, an observation about which I have no qualms about chalking up to a miracle. I did not wake in the same place I fell asleep, I also noted. I had fallen asleep in a corner, sitting up, but when I woke, I was on a sort of raised slab, with a light blanket draped over me. I touched the fabric absent mindedly as I looked around, and noted how thin and lightweight it was even though it was as warm as a full comforter. I folded it slowly, looking for any signs of another living creature aside from the few bugs crawling amongst the ivy. I put the blanket into my hoodie pocket and pulled my hood up. It was colder than it was yesterday. I felt the chill bite at my legs and my cheeks and I hugged myself tightly. There was only one way out of the alcove I found myself in, so I cautiously followed it out. There was a fine frost beneath my feet, and every step I took crunched softly. There were no other sets of foot prints.

The path went on for a good while without any turns before I came to an opening which offered me four path choices. I frowned and fidgeted with discomfort. I looked at each path, each one more distressing than the one before, and felt tears well up in my eyes. Without having an odd number, there was not a path in the middle. Rather, if I were to draw a line straight in front of me, there would be two paths on either side of it, and that bothered me immensely. It also hindered my decision-making process greatly. I found myself sitting on the ground with my legs held to my chest before too long. Tears rolled unabashed down my cheeks and down my legs, making them even colder than they were to begin with. 'This is ridiculous,' I told myself. 'You're an adult now, you've got to pull yourself together and start making decisions.' I chewed the inside of my lip as I looked at each path again. They were all identical, as far as I could see. Each had the same ivy covering the walls, and each ended in what appeared to be a turn, but a turn in what direction, I could not be sure. Suddenly, hope flooded my being, and I rose to my feet. I went down the far left path and found that, yes, indeed, it ended in a dead end. I felt a grin creep onto my face and I ran down and across the outlet to the far right path. My grin faltered as I found it turned into a winding path with random columns scattered throughout it. I looked back at the way I came and sighed quietly. Telling myself there was no point to turn back and further upset myself, I continued on down the path.

I walked for what felt like hours, although the sun hanging overhead had hardly budged since I began. I finally turned one more corner before squeaking. Fidgeting with a pile of rocks in front of me was one of the largest creatures I had ever seen. It stood at what seemed like 8 feet tall, and it was easily half as wide. It had stony black skin that creaked with each of its movements, and wore only a loincloth. I started to back away, but felt only wall behind me. I turned to look and found that the way I came had disappeared. The tears welled in my eyes again as I looked back at the creature. It had stopped fidgeting, ears flicking around before it stopped altogether. It squat, crouching over its bundle for a full minute, and I stood frozen to the wall, too afraid to breathe. It stood to its full height and turned slowly to look at me. I blinked when I saw its face and almost broke out into laughter.

Its eyes were big, as big as my palms, and a foresty green. Its nose was the size of my foot, and almost the same shape too, but its lips. Its lips were as thin as my thumb and as wide as middle toe. It looked as though it had taken a bite out of the most sour lemon in the universe. It just stared at me, and I felt the laughter beginning to bubble in my throat. I coughed slightly and waved slightly. It raised a massive hand and mimicked my action. I inched forward and around it slowly, and it turned with me. I nodded slightly in goodbye before I turned to leave through the only entrance way I could see. My entire body shook as the creature let out a loud, thunderous howl and I turned back to it. It looked at me with angry-looking eyes and fear swallowed my body. I quickly turned and started running. I didn't have to look behind me to know that it was chasing me; its footsteps shook the ground. I could only imagine it was catching up to me, and I pushed myself harder, faster, finally turning one more corner that led me to two doors. Not giving myself a chance to stop, I ran through the left one and slammed it shut behind me, plunging myself in total darkness. I could hear the creature whuffling around, trying to find me, and it banged hard on the door before its steps retreated.

I waited, panting, trembling, to see if it was going to charge. When I had caught my breathe several minutes later, I shakily stepped out and felt along the wall. I found nothing to give me light, so I hugged the cold stone and inched my way down the pitch black corridor, completely blind. The only sound was my own heartbeat in my ears and the soft tip-tapping of my shoes on the wet-sounding ground. 'I'm going to die in this maze,' I thought to myself.

 **Thank you for reading. I apologize for any spelling errors and for the general jumpiness of my writing. I'm afraid it probably won't get any better, so if you have a hard time getting past it, I would stop. Even I have a hard time reading my own stuff sometimes.**

 **Also, fun fact, I thought David Bowie had heterochromia. I was wrong. He apparently got hit in the eye by a kid when he was a teenager and they couldn't repair the damage, so his eyes are the same color, its just his left eye's pupil is permanently dilated. I thought that was neato. Anyway, thanks again for reading. I hope you're at least somewhat liking it so far.**


	4. Chapter 4

I had wandered for a few more hours before I was forced to stop for a break. I hadn't eaten since I woke up in the maze yesterday, and my entire body was shaking from the exertion that walking had expended. Spots were invading my vision the farther I went, and my bones seemed to double in weight with each step I took. The sun was still fairly high overhead, a good few hours remaining before it fell behind the walls. I sat and held my stomach, letting the ever-threatening tears finally spill out in a fit of anger turned sadness turned fear turned anger again. I wept until I had nothing more to weep, until my head was like lead upon my shoulders and my eyes were as dry as the Sahara Desert.

I don't know exactly when I dozed off, but I woke with a throbbing headache a few hours later. The sun was nearing the top of the Labyrinth, and I felt weak. I forced myself to my feet and I stumbled deeper into the maze. I didn't have to walk far before I came to a set of doors. Upon these doors were two faces, each one disgustingly ugly. They were made from bronze, and the one on the left featured a face rather like an ugly baby screaming in anger. The face on the right featured a wrinkled old dog's face, drooped with sadness. I approached the doors cautiously and searched for door knobs.

"And just _what_ do you think you're doing?" growled the baby face.

I jump-squeaked in surprise and backed away.

"It's very impolite to not introduce yourself."

I looked around then pointed at myself. When it looked pointedly at me, I coughed and swallowed.

We stared at each other for what felt like ages before the dog face whined plaintively. "Oh just let her be, can't you see she's scared?"

"What's it to you?"

"There's no need to be so hard on her. You there, girl, you're looking for a way through the Labyrinth, yes?"

I nodded slowly.

"Then I suppose you could stop your search. All you've got to do is pick a door, although picking the right door is seemingly imposisble as nobody has done it yet. To choose the right door, you have to solve the riddle."

"Yes, yes, the riddle. Here it is. Pay attention, idiot. Many have heard me, but nobody has seen me, and I will not speak back until spoken am I?"

I furrowed my brow and crossed my arms. Looking back and forth from the doors, I rolled over each of the lines in my head. The baby face was growing impatient with each passing minute, and the dog face just looked down with a deeply depressed gaze. "Would you hurry up? We haven't got all day."

"Just leave her alone and let her think. There's no need to be so mean," moaned the dog face.

I glowered at the baby face before I heard it. My ear twitched as the reverberating echo came back to me and I smiled brightly. An echo. That was it. That was the answer. I looked at the baby face and poked it. "OW! What are you doing, you imbecile?"

Nothing. No echo. I smiled more and stepped over to the dog door. It looked up at me and asked, "I doubt you have, but have you figured it out (-out?-out?-out?)?"

I smiled more and nodded, pushing against the door. It gave way easily, and it opened out into a woods-y area. A sickeningly sweet and appetizing wave of apple-smell hit me in the face and I almost fainted from the relief that flooded my body as I saw it. In the middle of a clearing not too far away, on top of a slight hill, a low-hanging apple tree as wide as my house beckoned me, its branches weighted down with thousands of fat, shiny apples. Tears filled my eyes and I broke out into an awkward run, gasping within seconds. My legs burned with the sting of exercise, but I didn't stop. I ran for what felt like hours to my inexperienced legs, so it was maybe only ten minutes, but the tree did not grow closer. The tears turned from tears of relief to tears of fear as I struggled to push myself onwards to the not-nearing tree. I fell to my trembling knees before too long and wept as I crawled. When I could no longer move a muscle in my body, I fell to the ground, gasping, shaking, spots in my vision, and I wept.

* * *

Jareth looked on with a heavy heart as Sarah's daughter crawled through the dirt. He had to do it, he told himself, he had to break her in order to fix her. He repeated that in his mind as she cried herself to sleep, the hunger in her body almost tangible. He closed his fist around the crystal in his palm and sighed gently. The way ahead would not be easy, especially for the girl, but he had no choice. He knew that. "Forgive me, Sarah," he whispered into the nighttime air. When he released the crystal from his palm, he watched it fall to the groud and shatter into a million pieces, the second step of his plan falling into action.

* * *

I woke sometime around noon, weak, my headache nearly debilitating. Looking around with bleary eyes, I saw, once again, the apple tree exactly as far as it had been the night before. As I turned back around, I saw a French double door painted an almost-white blue with intricate silver designs around its edges standing between me and the tree. I tried to look behind it but it scooted with me. Turning in a circle, I watched with mild amazement as it followed my every move so that it was in front of me every inch I moved. With a sigh, I half-begrudgingly, half-curiously pushed the doors open and stepped over the threshold.

As the doors opened, a red light shined in my face. I held my hand in front of my eyes to guard against it and stepped through it. As the light subsided, I found myself sitting in a car seat with my hands on the steering wheel. Fear flooded my body as recognition hit me and I looked to my right.

"Yeah, we're nearly home. You should have seen the crowd tonight, hon, it was packed. Yeah. No, we played great. Yeah, we'll pick up milk." My father put his hand on the receiver and looked at me. "Jack, babe, we have to get milk."

I stared at him, wide eyed, mouth agape. He looked just like he did before. My eyes looked back at me under slightly-too-bushy eyebrows, and a smile peeked out from between a salt-and-pepper beard and moustache. His hair was kept short and relatively tidy, but was greying quickly. It curled slightly tonight, having been a few days since he last visited the barber shop. He turned back to the phone and continued to chat with my mother, completely unaware of the tragedy to come. I turned at the last second to see the headlights coming towards me, blurred by the rain. I watched as the car careened off its side of the road, across the meridian, towards us as though in slow motion. I screamed for my father, for him to save himself, but when I looked at him, he was slowly throwing his hand in the air to grasp the wheel, the phone falling slowly to the floor. He was yelling, but no sound was coming. His hand gripped the wheel and turned it sharply just as the car was making contact with ours, and he looked into my eyes. I watched in slow motion as the car slowly crushed ours like a soda can under a child's foot, as the door turned inward and cut into my father, as I screamed helplessly for him.

And it was over. I was back in the clearing, on my hands and knees, gasping. Tears rolled out of my eyes and into the grass as I was riddled with sobs, and I stayed like that for some time. When I was empty, I sat back and looked above me. I was slightly closer to the tree, but it gave me no joy. That night, I did not dream. The thin blanket offered little to no heat to calm the cold inside me. The ground was hard and unforgiving. The dawn was slow to come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Just a general FYI for anybody who read before this chapter, I updated previous chapters to include line breaks when the POV changes. I'll try to keep up with that. I thought that by altering the document, it automatically updated the chapter, but apparently that's not how it works. My bad. Thanks for reading, and thanks to the four of you who followed and the one of you that favorited!**

When I awoke, I was filled with the strangest sensation of being watched. As I struggled to lift myself from the dirt, I looked around. I saw nobody, but the feeling didn't go away. I decided to attribute it to my lack of food, and rubbed at my eyes. I turned towards the tree, eyeing it with determination. 'I'm going to reach it today,' I told myself. I took a heavy step towards it and found little surprise as I was greeted with a door much like the one from yesterday but noticeably smaller.

As I stepped through it, I was prepared to find myself behind the steering wheel of my car again, but was not upset to find that I was wrong. Instead, I stood on the side of the highway, a light mist from the ocean crashing into the hill behind me covering my body. It was warm, but it left me feeling cold, as though with each wave my blood was lowering in temperature. Recognition suddenly hit me in the gut, and I felt my eyes go wide. I turned to watch incoming traffic, and time slowed down around me as I spotted my car. I turned to look the other way, easily spotting the car that hit me. It was veering dangerously, the driver obviously inebriated. I looked back at my car and even from such a far distance, I could see me in the driver's seat. I was smiling, responding easily to my father as he reported things my mother said. He too was fairly drunk as evidenced by the way he slurred and held himself.

I watched him nod into the phone and respond to my mother. Not long, now. Turning back to the other car, I noticed the driver's eyes closing and a violent trembling overtaking his body. He jerked and hit the wheel, sending his car towards mine. Realization and understanding hit me as I watched my car flip. He had had a seizure. The final mortician's report said the accident was probably caused by falling asleep drunk, a conclusion I always had a problem with due to the sudden violent turn that happened. I watched as the wreckage settled, my car upturned and dented horribly on my father's side, the drunk guy's car halfway back to the median and smoking from the engine.

'It wasn't my fault,' I thought to myself.

A gentle pink light enveloped my body and clouded my vision. When it receeded, I found myself underneath the apple tree, its sweet aroma filling all of my senses. I wept with relief as I reached out and plucked one of the fat fruits from the branches. As I bit into it, tears streamed out of my eyes and I moaned involuntarily. I ate ravenously, juice dripping down my chin and arms, apple after apple until I could eat no more. I leaned against the tree and held my stomach, closing my eyes contentedly.

* * *

Once he was sure the girl had fallen asleep, Jareth cast the crystal in his palm to the ground. When the smoke had disappated, he crossed the clearing to where she slept and looked upon her. Under the moonlight, her already pale skin had taken on an ethereal glow, overcast with light shadows from the moon's light shining through the branches of the tree. In the gentle light, she looked nearly identical to her mother. She had the same strong chin, the slightly upurned nose, prominent cheek bones. He felt a smile slip onto his face.

He watched her for a few moments longer before he leaned down to her and placed a gentle kiss upon her brow. Creepy as he was sure the action was, he could not help himself. He knew this girl would be his future, however long that would be, even if he had known her only a few days.

"You can defeat this Labyrinth, just like your mother, young Jack." He chuckled softly and threw a crystal at his feet. Sarah would not have had it any other way.

* * *

When I woke up again, I felt lighter, literally lighter. I could swear my skin was glowing, and the bits of hair I could see seemed to have soaked in pure sunlight. My body felt weightless, like I could take off into flight at any given second. I smiled as I stood. I picked an armful of apples and stuffed them into my hoodie's pouch. I gnawed on one as I set out again, arms swinging, a hop in my step. There were no more magic doors to take me back, but a gate now stood on the opposite end of the clearing, huge and ancient looking. It was wrought iron, rose vines wrapped around nearly every curl. As I approached the gate, it slowly creaked open. I stepped through the roses and into deep almost-jungle woods. Moss clung to every surface in thick blankets and hanged from thick vines like melting wax. Sunlight seeped through the tree tops in random patches. There was a constant light dust floating around but it didn't seem to touch anything. Every now and again I saw the shuffling of a small animal running into the brush, heard the flapping of wings overhead. It was perfectly peaceful for a while.

After a few hours of walking, I felt eyes on me, more than just curious animal eyes. I felt predator eyes, the eyes of an animal on the hunt. I looked back over my shoulder but saw nothing. The hair on my arms and neck stood on end and my breath quickened despite myself. I walked faster, faster until I was jogging, and then I was running. I heard nothing behind me but the intensity of the eyes increased the faster I went, the threat drawing more powerful with every beat of my heart. I ran as far as my legs could take me until I tripped like a horrible movie cliche. I felt the power of my threat drawing closer and I screamed, curling into a ball with my arms over my head.

And then it was gone.

I gasped for breath and waited for the fear to leave my body, waited for my sanity to return. I slowly sat up and looked around, body trembling from exertion and fright. There was nothing. No one. I heard the croak of a frog a short distance away and let out a nervous giggle that turned into full blown laughter. I laughed for what felt like hours until I felt the eyes on me again. There was no time to turn before I felt the hands on my mouth and around my waist, no time to scream before the blackness of unconsciousness took me.


	6. Chapter 6

_"Jacky baby, look at that view. Did ya ever see anything quite so spectacular in your whole life?" My dad sighed wistfully as he leaned back on his elbows, legs dangling over the stony cliffside. I shook my head and followed suit, our legs touching in the warm tropical breeze. The sun was slowly setting over the ocean, the waters still and calm. The brilliant violets and reds had no end, reflected back from those very same waters. It looked like the world was on fire._

 _"Never." The warm air hugged my skin and the gentle cliff breeze twisted in my hair, still long at the time, the grass hugging me close like a blanket._

 _We sat like that for some time before my father jumped to his feet. "Whelp, might as well get this over with before all the light is gone. Your mother is waiting, you know."_

 _I looked up at him and nodded, letting him help me to my feet. He took my hand and supported me as I looked over the side of the cliff. It was a good 200feet to the warm waters below. My mother was sitting on the roof of our car, just a short ways away, and she waved at us. We waved back, grinning and my dad gave her the camera signal that told her to get ready. I let out a shaky breath. "I don't know if I can do this, Dad."_

 _"Psh. Of course you can. You're a Creete. Adventure is in your blood, young lady, whether you like it or not."_

 _I frowned slightly, looking again over the edge. "Yeah but... It's so far down."_

 _He chuckled softly and hugged me to him. "You just do like I taught yeh and yeh'll be fine."_

 _Nodding, I stepped away and stood with my toes over the edge. I don't know exactly how long I stood there, my heartbeat in my ears, my muscles like Jell-O, too cold from fear for the warmth of the island to fix before my father chuckled and shoved me over the edge. In hindsight, I really should have been prepared. My father believed that there was no fear worth not living, no mountain not worth climbing. It was his philosophy that it was the challenges that made us weak in the knees, the ones that made us scream in fear, the ones that made our lives flash before our eyes that were most worth experiencing. Sometimes all you needed was a little push. I just happened to be terrified of a lot of things, and as such, my father sometimes physically had to push me into situations. Like this. And also like the time we came home from a vacation in Michigan to find that wolf spiders had bred and hatched in my bedroom, and, knowing my crippling arachnophobia, my father physically shoved me through my door and held it shut while I screamed and cried. It took my mother an hour to talk him into letting me out. My arachnophobia has not improved._

 _I fell for ages, screaming, my stomach up in my throat. I flailed, trying to grab for something, anything to save me, to stop my descent, and in my flailing I lost track of the proximity of the waters. I hit hard, unnaturally, and the waters sucked me down deep, thrashing me around in the undertow. The last thing I remember was my father's arms, pulling me to shore, his voice yelling for my mother to call the hospital._

This pain was quite like that one, the one that told me my body was broken, twisted and battered, except when I opened my eyes, I could see that I was perfectly fine. I was not, as I had feared, some mangled monster under hideous flourescent lights. I was not hooked to machines keeping me alive. My parents were not at my bedside, my father absolutely wrought with guilt and self-hatred, my mother asleep beside him.

I was in a grey stone room with a slatted window at waist-level. To be precise, I was in a bed made from rich rosewood. The rose-coloured sheets were made from some very soft but not slippery fabric, nothing like I had ever felt before, and the magenta comforter was as light as air but as thick as my thighs. There were too many pillows, ranging from aquamarine to fuschia, for my comfort, but each one was plush and soft.

I pulled myself upwards into the pillows with great difficulty, tears springing to my eyes from the pain. I looked down at my body and blushed. Where my clothes had been before was now a full-length sleeveless nightgown, a light lavender colour. My under garments had been removed. I looked to my right and saw my clothes washed and folded neatly on the table, my shoes even cleaned. I pulled myself out of bed and took off the gown, slipping into my under garments as quickly as my pain would let me. There was a mirror across the room and I limped over to it to inspect myself for wounds. There were no cuts or anything, except for a slight bluish line across my stomach and some spots on my neck. I reached up to them and covered them with my fingers, finding it to be a near match. Frowning, I hurredly finished dressing, my shoes giving me the worst trouble as leaning over long enough to tie them was nearly impossible. I crossed the room to the only door and found it unlocked. I opened it just enough to squeeze through and shut it as quietly as I could.

The hallway was undecorated, just a seemingly endless straight line of boring grey, disturbed every few dozen feet by the gentle yellow of sunlight. I stayed to the right and inched my way down the hall, stepping as quietly as I could. The path lead down to a spiral stone staircase, like that of a castle, with uniform slatted windows high up in the walls. My footfalls echoed throughout the tower and followed me down the seemingly endless stairs. When I finally reached the end of the staircase, I was met with a large wooden door, rounded at the top. I took the sleek feather-shaped handle and turned it cautiously. Surprisingly, the door offered little resistence to opening, and it swung open to a blinding glow of yellow light.

* * *

Jareth sat at his frankly unnecesarily giant desk, staring at the mound of kingly-duty-related paperwork piling up towards the ceiling and sighed. He found the generally easy forms and transcripts to be especially tedious with the girl in the Labyrinth. He tapped his pen against the desk and looked up towards the painted-sky ceiling. It had been quite some time since he had checked up on her, now that he thought about it. He ran a gloved hand through his messy hair and pushed away from his desk. _'Just a small break,'_ he thought. He went to the window and looked out over the Labyrinth, now awash in the gentle orange light of sunset. He sat on the sill and conjured a crystal, humming softly to himself. He willed the ball to show him the girl and waited. And waited. His humming fell and his eyebrows drew together in concern. "Show me the girl," he said aloud. The crystal stayed clear. Jareth threw it to the wall and rose to his feet on the sill. He looked out into the Labyrinth, scouring everything within easy eyesight before he lunged off the window, which incidentally was ten stories from the ground. As he was falling, he willed the magic in his veins to spread through his body in a familiar warmth and before he had time to think, his arms were molded into strong wings, his feet drawn into talons. The King of Goblins circled the Labyrinth five times before he carried himself back to the castle.

He transformed back into his human-ish form and stormed through the colossal castle doors. "Where is she?" he shouted. The goblins in the throne room all scattered to attention, shouting that they didn't know. "Find her! I want everyone looking! We have to _find_ her!" He threw his throne into the wall, lashing out with every sentence. The terrified, hideous servants all scrambled towards the door, literally climbing over each other in the race to escape the angry king's arm length. Jareth paced the floor, literally trembling with rage, checking the crystals every minute. "I'm so sorry, Sarah."

* * *

It took my eyes almost a full minute to adjust to the light, but once they did I had trouble believing them. The room before me was huge. Just. Huge. There are _literally_ no better words for it. It was easily able to hold at least one and a half Walmart Super Centers, and the ceiling stretched forever above me. The floor was a soft pink quartz-looking stone, and there were strategically placed columns made of marble. The walls were adorned with dozens of large slatted windows all equidistant from one another. The main entrance for the light washing the room was a gigantic stain glass window depicting a woman holding an infant, sort of like the Virgin Mary holding Jesus, but modernized. I frowned slightly, walking closer to the window. The woman looked familiar to me, a brunette with big chocolate eyes and pale skin. In fact, she kind of looked like... my mother. I laughed slightly. _'Stupid,'_ I told myself.

And then I looked at the baby.

The child was still an infant, swaddled in a very familiar gossamer blanket lined with pink lace. The infant herself had thick, curly black hair and unearthly crystalline blue eyes. I stared in shock at the window for what seemed forever until I heard the gentle tapping of footsteps slowly coming closer and then, finally, felt the weight of a large, warm hand on my shoulder. I turned slowly and looked into the same crystalline blue eyes from the window.

"Jacky baby."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author note: I promise I've not forgotten about this fanfiction, I've just now started college, and my Jareth obsession is dwindling to an almost normal-person level. I'm sorry for anyone who actually likes this story and has to wait. I'm going to do my best to finish it, unlike my Skyrim fanfiction, but I can make no promises as to how soon it will end. I'm not even sure how many more chapters I want to write. It could be four, it could be fifty, who knows? Feel free to review (negative reviews please include constructive criticism, not just something like "you suck" y'know? That doesn't help me and only makes me cry so unless you've ever had the displeasure of seeing me cry, you don't know just how unhelpful it is to my mental wellbeing.) To make up for how infrequent updates are likely to be, I'm going to try my best to make each upcoming chapter fairly lengthy so anybody who cares will have something to tide them over. Thanks for reading! Also, I have Word now, so my spelling should improve. Woot!**

Jareth's fist came down hard upon his immense wooden desk. "What do you mean you haven't found her?" he shouted.

The poor goblin responsible for delivering the news trembled with fear, its bulbous monstrosity of a nose running down its filthy white shirt. "W-w-we've searched the entire kingdom, M'Lord, but the girl is nowhere to be found…"

"Oh, the entire kingdom?" Jareth's fangs glinted in the sunlight streaming through the high windows and the goblin gulped, nodding shakily. "Did you hear that, Niiz? They've searched the entire kingdom." Jareth laughed, looking towards the captain of his guard. She looked back at him through hazel, cat-like eyes and smirked. She looked back towards the goblin, shaking her head slightly. Jareth slipped around his desk and placed his gloved hand on the goblin's shaking shoulder. "The entire kingdom, my, my, that _is_ a daunting task." Jareth looked down at the creature, walking towards the door with him in tow. "Why, you all must be exhausted."

"Y… Yes M'Lord…" croaked the goblin.

Jareth grasped the goblin's shoulder tightly, raising him the extra four feet necessary to bring him face to face with Jareth. The creature squealed and began to sob hysterically. "Quiet!" shouted Jareth. The goblin immediately silenced itself, hands over mouth, eyes wide with fear. "Listen well, Mossrat, you will take the search parties out again and scour _every_ kingdom as far as the horizon, do you understand?" he hissed sweetly. Mossrat shook his gigantic head vigorously. "Good. Now, get to it!" Jareth threw the goblin into the hall and with a flick of his hand slammed the door behind him. "Honestly, Niiz, I will never understand these creatures. I feed them, I clothe them, I protect them, and what do they give me in return? Stupidity." He shook his head disdainfully and sat down behind his desk, head in his hands.

Niiz walked over, her rock-bottom boots clicking on the floor, and placed a hand on Jareth's shoulder. "We will find the girl, Sire," she whispered.

He looked up at her, meeting her gentle hazel gaze. He smiled faintly. "I know." He sighed and steadied himself, looking towards his paperwork. "I know we will," he whispered.

* * *

" _Surprise!" A cloud of confetti fell from above my head and people jumped out at me from all corners of the living room, laughing, cheering. I laughed with them as I looked around. All my friends, my parents, my aunt and uncle, even my grandmother all standing together, clapping. I put my bag down and my boyfriend walked over to me, taking me in a big hug. "Happy birthday, babe," he said into my ear. I smiled up at him and my mother came over to us._

" _It was your father's idea of course," she said, smiling._

" _Next time help him have the idea not to have everyone park in front of the house," I laughed._

 _My father blushed furiously, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, we couldn't very well use Mrs. Jeeve's drive now could we? She'd bash in all the windows." Everyone laughed and my mother pulled me over to the cake._

" _Oh no," I said._

 _She chuckled and waved her hands like a musical director and everyone began to sing, sloppily, out of tune, my boyfriend and dad each bellowing every syllable in deep, poorly executed operatic voices, their arms around the other, kicking their legs like they were doing the CanCan. I blushed furiously and pulled my hood up over my face, squealing. As soon as they sang my name, I used my super strong flutist lungs to blow out the fifty-something candles that were currently melting my beautiful_ Alice in Wonderland _themed cake. Everyone cheered and my mother shooed me away so she could cut the cake, insisting she was the only one capable of doing it._

 _My father took me aside while everyone chatted, my boyfriend helping my mother to pass out the cake. He put his arm around my shoulders as we stood at the window, looking out. He had a big smile on his dopey face, his glasses crooked and filthy as usual. "Jacky baby," he began, "the day we brought yeh home from the hospital, yeh wouldn't stop cryin' for even a second. Jus' all day jus'—(and here he proceeded to imitate the wail of a newborn, catching everyone's attention, bringing most of them to listen intently)—all day and night. We thought—well_ I _thought yeh were dying. I didn't know what teh do. Yer mehm," he glanced over his shoulder at my mother who was shaking her head in disbelief, chuckling to herself. She had heard this story many times. "Yer mehm was workin' at the factory then, 'n' I was jes' fixin' up cars on the side, yeh know. 'N' one day, she comes home from work, y'see, 'n' she's got a pressie fer yeh. 'N' yeh know what yeh did?"_

 _I rolled my eyes and shook my head, watching a squirrel on the big oak tree out front._

" _Yeh shut yer gob." Most people chuckled. "Yeh shut yer gob 'n' yer mehm she took you into her lap 'n' she helped yeh open the pressie 'n' that's when I knew."_

" _Knew what?" I looked up at my father, eyebrow raised._

" _I knew jus' how high maintenance yeh was gonna be!" He busted out into uproarious laughter, joined by most of my friends. I blushed and pulled my hood back over my head, swatting his arm. He pulled me close in a tight bear hug and I breathed in his scent of tobacco, sweat, and honey roasted peanuts. He pushed my hood down and ruffled my hair. I squeaked and huffed up at him, patting it back down into a manageable shape. He smiled down at me and I smiled back._

 _My boyfriend cleared his throat and took my hand, pulling me away from my dad. "I'm sorry, sir, but she's taken," he joked._

 _My dad laughed again and went to help my mom set up the presents' table. My boyfriend pulled me into the hallway leading towards the bedrooms and he glowered at me. I frowned back at him. "What?" I asked defensively._

" _You bought another fucking video game?" he hissed at me._

 _I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, I did, with my own money, is that a problem?"_

 _He grabbed me by the shoulder, hard, and growled, shoving me against the wall. The music from the living room drowned out the thud. "I fucking told you to give me any money you get."_

 _I shoved him back, rage bubbling inside me, along with the familiar hurt that filled my throat and burned my palms. "And I fucking told you to quit sexting other women, to quit accepting pictures, to quit saving them to your phone, to quit_ sending _them, but no! You're still doing it! You're still talking to that bitch in Texas, to that one in Dakota! What? I'm not enough for you? I'm too fat for you? Too ugly? No don't you fucking dare speak." He closed his mouth, eyes burning with anger, with embarrassment. "I've had it with your shit. I've had it with the lies and the deceit. I'm done with you. I don't deserve to live like this, to constantly compare myself to every woman we pass, wondering if your eyes are staying on her too long, wondering if when you hold me you're thinking of someone else. You can go get your shit and get out. I'm not putting myself through this another goddamn year!" I threw myself away from the wall and stormed out into the living room. In my anger, I hadn't realized how loud my voice had gotten, how quiet the living room had become, I hadn't realized that everybody was listening._

 _My eyes stung with tears, my cheeks burned with hatred and shame. My mother shook her head, busying herself with something. She never liked to get too personal with me, a trait I adopted quickly. My father rushed to my side and took me in a deep hug. "Excuse us, everybody." He pulled me into the kitchen and held me tightly as I sobbed into his shirt. He rubbed my back, shushing me, humming quietly. "It's ok, Jacky baby, you don't deserve scum like that. You deserve the moon on a string. You deserve someone willing to give that to you, someone who will respect and appreciate you, not that shit bag."_

 _Some shocked shouting came from the living room and my father ran out through the doors. I followed closely. My boy—my ex—was trying to shove past my two very short, very not strong friends, my tv and entire game collection in his arms. My father shoved past everybody in his way and grabbed my ex by the back of the neck. "Yeh want teh put tha' down, lad," he hissed. My ex audibly swallowed. My father was a large man, 6'5", roughly 300lbs of pure Scottish muscle. My mom always called him her "teddy bear log thrower" because he had once entered a log throwing competition in his small hometown. He broke the record. By like a hundred feet. It's still broken to this day. My ex, in comparison, is the same 5'8" as me, barely even 130lbs._

 _My father towered over him, casting a shadow over my ex who narrowed his eyes. "Or what, old man?"_

 _My father smirked and I saw the sunlight shine off his teeth for a second, giving him a menacing look. "I'm glad yeh asked, lad."_

 _My ex, who I will refer to as Dipshit from this point forward, was smart enough to know to try to run. He dropped my stuff—the pain of seeing my relatively brand new Sony Bravia TV crashing to the ground, screen shattering, with my PlayStation3 and my Xbox360 and game chest falling with it, lemme tell you, I cried. Fortunately, both systems were barely damaged, save for a crack here or there—and made it three steps before my father's huge, burly hands slammed down on his shoulders and pulled him back. He threw Dipshit against the wall, spider-web cracking it, and he punched him square in the nose. I couldn't help but to let out a few giggles. After so long wasted on Dipshit, it was nice to see him finally get what he deserved. Dipshit's head leaned back, blood already cascading down his filthy blue shirt. It took a minute, but finally, he shoved himself off the wall and lifted a blood hand to my father. "You'll pay for this, old man!" he cried before he shambled out of the house._

 _My father followed him, shouting out the door "If yeh ever come back 'n' bother my Jacky baby again, yeh'll be dead!" The room was dead silent, everyone watching the spectacle, my best friend and his boyfriend grinning widely, my mother's brother with his hand over his gaping mouth. The seconds passed slowly, crawling really, until my dad closed the door and cheers erupted throughout the room. I grinned widely and ran to him, throwing my arms as far around his massive frame as I could. He chuckled and patted my hair before he looked around at the mess and sighed. "I'm sorry yer party is ruined, lass," he said forlornly._

 _I just laughed and buried my face in his chest. Everyone began to talk again, my uncle helping my mother to clean up the TV, consoles, and games chest. Dad brushed my still-long hair back and hugged my tightly. "I'll always protect yeh, lass."_

I'm not sure when exactly I fell, but I suddenly found myself on my butt, staring up at the massive tower that is my dad. His electric blue eyes, same as mine, looked down at me, and his smile shined down, too. I shook my head slightly, a scowl taking up my face. "You're dead. You're _fucking_ DEAD!" I shouted, subconsciously noting how hoarse my voice was from lack of use after so many years. His smile disappeared and his eyebrows knit together in something amidst regret and worry and something else. I got to my feet and glowered at him—in my head, I was basically as tall as he was, fierce, and frightening, when in reality, I probably just looked like an angry puppy, but lemme tell you, _I_ thought I was terrifying—and I crossed the distance between us, shoving hard on his chest with both my hands. "YOU'RE DEAD!" I screamed. I beat my hands against his chest, repeating myself over and over until he took my wrists gently and held me to him, and my stupid ass cried. I cried harder than I had in years, since I was a child probably. He just held me until I quieted, stroking my hair and rubbing my back. He shushed me quietly and hummed the lullaby he used to hum to me as a small girl. When I finally calmed down, I whispered hoarsely into his chest, "How?"

He released me and stepped back, his smile back in place. He gestured for me to follow him and I watched him go for a second before I followed, hesitation and trepidation flooding every cell in my body. The light was different than when I had entered the room. It was still intense, dazzling, but there was an undertone to it I couldn't quite place, almost like there was darkness within the light itself. I shook my head, telling myself I was being crazy, and I followed my father.

* * *

Jareth threw his work across the room with a deep growl of rage and exasperation. A gentle chuckling came from behind him, in the corner of the office, and Jareth narrowed his eyes. "It's been a long time," he said, not turning.

A pair of heels click-clacked slowly, steadily around to the front of his desk until stopping at the armchair that sat across from him. She sat down and he could _feel_ her impudence radiating from her very core. Slowly, he drew his eyes slowly over to her, followed her unnecessarily long silver hair up to the withering face, up to the eyes that mirrored his own. "Mother."

The petite woman grinned, baring her long, pearly fangs in what Jareth was sure was a warning. She was rather a ridiculous, if but mildly frightening, sight. At barely 5' tall, her thick, overly shiny silver hair fell to her ankles and had more than enough potential to curtain the woman's frankly puny frame twice over. With absolutely no meat on her bones whatsoever, Jareth never understood how this small woman ever managed to give birth to him, let alone his 31 siblings to follow. Her skin was a deep slate-ish color, as black as could be, but was not kept well. It was cracked in some places from dryness and looked as though all she did was scratch, scratch, scratch. She was old, to put it nicely. Nearing her 2,000th birthday, her face showed it greatly. Her lips were practically gone, just a barely indiscernible thin line hidden behind drawn-on mossy-green, luscious lips. Her crows' feet were crows' ravines, and she had so many lines in her forehead it looked like a map of the highway system of the United States from the Aboveground. She had no eyebrows, whether they refused to grow or she physically removed them, Jareth was unsure, but her mismatched brown and green eyes were partially obscured by skin from her forehead that had lost its elasticity. She was haunting, to say the least. "Son." She nodded her head in greeting. I've heard you've run into a bit of a problem." She examined her disgustingly long, powder blue fingernails at arm's length, turning them this way and that.

"News travels quickly," he remarked.

"It does when it's negative, especially when it concerns a royal." She narrowed her eyes at him and raised a finger to him. "I'm warning you, Jareth, if you've lost this girl, you will be sorry."

"I fail to see how it affects you in any way, Mother."

"It affects me in every way, Jareth." Jareth shivered involuntarily at the way her creaky voice hissed over his name the way a snake "When one of my own children, my eldest, no less, my son _the king_ makes a fool of himself, it makes me look like a fool." She reached into a purse that was exactly the same spider-webby worn out grey fabric as the evening gown she wore, and she pulled out a long fan with razor sharp end points. She began fanning herself slowly, directing her gaze out the large, open window. "I don't like to look a fool, Jareth," again, another shiver, "nor do I tolerate failure in this family, as you well know."

Jareth did indeed know. When he was 87, extremely young into his adulthood, appearing as a 16-year-old to mortal eyes, his mother had given birth to his first set of siblings—twin boys, both brown-haired, mix-matched-eyed babes—and the two grew to be strong, reliable, handsome, born rulers. Their mother had had high hopes for them. Upon their 50th birthday, she had thrown a large ball, inviting all the royals from every kingdom from shore to shore, and every living relative as well. It was a coming-of-age celebration, as 50 in the fae world is the age at which fae stop growing and begin to mature into adulthood. As the ball progressed, the boys became more and more devious, spurred on by the guests' drunkenness, and tricks ensued. One such trick involved the inter-tying of shoe laces near the table bearing food. Jareth remembered well the shrieks of horror and the covered mouths as their mother unknowingly stepped between two of the gentlemen victims, probably flirting, and tripped, knocking into the table and spilling all manner of food and drink over her ridiculous dress. The more dominant of the two boys, Octillian, was put to death the next day, to teach a lesson to the younger. Karrbian was never the same.

"You have two weeks to locate the girl, Jareth or mark my words," she snapped the fan shut and pointed it at him, the blades glinting in the light. "You will have disappointed me." She rose from the chair and left the room, leaving the door wide open.

Jareth shuddered yet again before he too, rose from his chair and crossed to the window, looking out over the Labyrinth. He heard a familiar gait coming from down the halls, the gentle clicking of stone-footed heels making their way towards his office. He sighed quietly and placed his hand over hers.

He felt the woman's slender hand upon his shoulder, and he looked at her. "We must be patient, Sire, if we're to find the girl."

Nodding gently, Jareth sighed and looked again out the window. A disturbance on the far side of the Labyrinth caught his eye and he summoned a crystal ball to look in on the situation. His search party, the buffoons, had gotten themselves tangled in the maze's vegetation, every one of them hopelessly stuck. He growled in frustration and threw the ball out the window. "Niiz, prepare your horse. We are taking over the search party." Niiz said nothing but he could sense her surprise. She clicked her heels together and bowed slightly before leaving the room. He watched her go a moment before going to his desk and opening the drawer. A jagged dagger lay amidst the disarray and he took it in his gloved hand, feeling its familiar weight before he slipped it into his boot and ran towards the window, the magic taking over his body as he ascended into the air, strong white wings flapping easily. Niiz was already waiting for him at end of the walk atop her huge roan stallion, her rose hair tied back out of her strikingly beautiful face. Once she saw him, she clicked the reigns and let out a "Yah!" and followed close behind the large snowy owl.

* * *

"It's no' much further now, lass." My father's heavy footfalls were the loudest thing in the hall, aside from his infrequent bursts of speech. It was awkward, being here beside him after so long, after so many long years in a hazy fog. Now that he was here, it was like those years didn't exist, like I didn't spend hours upon hours feeling like he was going to walk back through the door, hours feeling like he had never existed in the first place.

That place is a weird place, that limbo. When a loved one dies, it's not just like they're just gone. It's like some days you can go all day without even thinking about them, like some distant cousin or something, but some days, no matter how long it's been or how much closure you got, you can never shake the feeling that they're just out for milk or something, and that the whole dark mess was just some horrible, horrible dream. I'm not sure which days are worse. The days I go without thinking about him, I feel guilty because I basically feel like I never had a dad, there was just this guy who's just not around anymore. I don't know where my paternal figure went but this person who's in my photographs, whose name I've got tattooed under my heart, whose shirts I've got tucked away in my drawer still smelling of him, he's just some guy. The paternal feeling didn't transcend death for me. I know in my head that this man is my father, but the long years I spent weeping behind locked doors, those were for just this guy who used to live with me. It's hard to explain, like death had separated my dad from the body, like my dad just relocated and this guy I cried for was some stranger I knew really well. But then the days where I forget he's gone, where I expect the door to open, where I hear him whistling through the halls at school, those are difficult days emotionally. The days I forget him, those are hard intellectually. Days where he's just out to the store, those are days where it's like he has to die all over again before I can remember he's not coming back, and it breaks my heart every single time I turn to greet his whistling with a smile and there's just this weird kid who's late to class and wears saggy jeans and the world comes crashing back down around me and I remember and I relive the tragedy and I feel it in my soul and it creates the rock in my throat.

But now, walking beside this massive beast of a man, I can scarcely remember the nights my mother woke me from nightmares, saying I was screaming. I can't remember the instant disappointment when the whistler was not my father. I can't recall not remembering I had a father. He was just here, and his presence was so fulfilling, save for that small nagging sensation that something is wrong, that there's something sinister in his eyes, something more pronounced in the way he held himself that I could just not shake for the life of me. I shook it away from my thoughts as we walked, slipping my arm into his. He chuckled and patted my hand, leaning towards me so that I didn't have to stretch so high.

We walked a few short minutes more before we came to a door. He smiled at me and gestured for me to go first. "After you, lass," he said.

I looked up at him, then at the door before I took my arm back and grasped its gilded handle in hand and pushed hesitantly. The wood gave way easily and let out into an average sized room with two large windows perfectly symmetrical on the outside wall. There was a candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling and all the candles burned gently, casting dancing shadows off the walls. The shadows obscured the photographs for a moment but once my eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the room, I was able to see them quite clearly. I stepped up to a wall, unease growing in the pit of my stomach. Pictures of me, paparazzi style almost, decorated nearly every inch of the walls. This one from my last day of high school, this one at graduation, that one sitting at the mall with my friend after buying a deck of Tarot cards. Hundreds of them, everywhere. My mouth ran dry and I turned to look at my father. "What is this?" I asked hesitantly.

He touched his hand to one of the pictures—me walking down the street—and sighed. "I missed you," he said. "They wouldn't le' me see yeh meself so I had other people see you for me."

My mind instantly went to an image of me in the shower with an eyeball watching me from the drain and I shuddered.

"They told me I'd never see you again, that you were destined for something greater. Some _one_ greater."

"What do you mean?" My hands grew clammy.

"Once yeh defeated the Labyrinth you were t' become Jareth's bride." He scowled. "Over my dead body. My wee girl belongs by _my_ side, as _my_ princess."

Panic took over my body and instinctively I darted for the door. His huge hand slammed it shut before I had a chance to slip out and he lowered his face to my level, his eyes glowing a deep red around the blue. He hissed in a voice that was not his, a voice that was deeper, gruffer, and his canines grew a few centimeters longer. "Ye're mine, lass."

The last thing I felt was the pain swallowing my body as my father dug his fangs into my cheek before I fell into the churning black abyss of sleep.

 **Author note (sorry): I've already begun writing the next chapter so I don't think it should be too terribly long before that one is up as well. I hope you enjoyed this.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Rest in peace, Mr. Bowie.**

* * *

 _My knuckles gripped the wheel tightly, all blood gone from my hands, and I struggled hard to turn, groaning against the weight of the wheel. The headlights across the way burned brightly in my eyes, nearly blinding me. The screeching of the tires of the car screamed in my ears. I turned towards my father, a silent scream caught in my throat, but instead of meeting my own eyes, I was faced with burning red coals in two eye sockets, three inch fangs, and razor sharp claws._

I awoke with a gasp, covered in sweat. I looked around my "room" for a moment before my eyes welled with tears and I pulled myself into a sitting position, leaned against the stone wall. My blanket was taken from me some time in the night, leaving me in just my shorts and my hoodie. I drew my knees in towards my chest and pulled my hoodie over my legs, letting the tears spill mercilessly out of my eyes. I looked up at the ceiling and imagined myself back home, in my bed with Twinkie by my side, snoring away. My mother is downstairs in the living room, watching _American Horror Story¸_ trying not to be scared by the creepy-ass clown. I sighed quietly and rubbed my legs for warmth, shutting my eyes, and I started praying—I'm not quite sure to whom, or if to anyone really—for somebody to find me, somebody to find me.

* * *

Jareth and Niiz stopped to give Niiz's stallion a rest after having been riding for nearly six hours straight. Jareth transformed back into his humanoid form and paced the length of the riverside clearing they at which they stopped. Niiz watched him silently, sitting atop a fallen tree trunk, one leg atop the other daintily.

"Obviously she was taken, I mean that much is clear," he burst.

Niiz said nothing, understanding that he wasn't actually paying attention to her.

"The Labyrinth is designed never to let anybody out but only to keep them in until they have won or I have dismissed them myself. So, the only possible solution is magic. Someone with magical powers took her from the maze."

A nod in agreement.

"So the question remains, who in the Underground possesses enough magic to infiltrate my Labyrinth undetected and transport a mortal out?" He stopped pacing a moment and put his hand to his chin in thought, eyes cast to the ground in concentration.

"Well, Sire, there's your mother, but she would never do anything to compromise her appearance to the public. Then there is the Lord of the Underhill, however it is my understanding that he is on his honeymoon with your twenty-second sister. There's the Lady of Wraithmarsh, although it's highly unlikely that she's left the comfort of her home having been housebound voluntarily for nearly two-hundred years now. And then there's that one, oh, what's his name, with the eyes," she frowned, mirroring his expression of thought.

 _The eyes._ "The eyes!" he shouted suddenly. He turned to Niiz and grasped her cheeks in his hands. "Oh, Niiz you _are_ a genius!" He quickly leaned down and smooched her forehead with a dramatically loud sound.

"M'Lord?" she asked, bewildered, a greenish blush decorating her yellow skin.

"The _eyes_. I knew I had seen them before. They're… _his_." Jareth looked to the south, eyes blazing with realization.

"Sire, I'm afraid I don't follow."

He turned back to Niiz, his face stony. "He's her father. I wonder I didn't notice before, it was right in front of my face. Niiz, she's half fae." Niiz's eyes grew wide with surprise and understanding. Jareth continued. "If he's got her, it'll be in Summer Valley. Getting in will be a problem but it must be done. He'll kill her." Jareth looked off towards the horizon. "Niiz, stay here until I return."

Niiz couldn't get a word out before he had disappeared, strong wings flapping hard while a strong gust of wind carried him southward, propelling him even faster.

* * *

My cheek had begun to fester from where my father had bitten me. The entire right side of my face was practically glowing red, and the two puncture wounds from where he had bitten me were a sickly yellow-greenish color. Thankfully nothing was oozing. I don't know how well I could have handled that.

Sometime during my sleep, a small mirror had been put in the corner of the room and a mattress and even a blanket had been provided to me. My clothes had been taken and replaced with a frankly unflattering spaghetti-strapped powder blue dress. I had no shoes anymore. My toes were constantly freezing but the heat from my cheek kept me too hot to notice. I was sure I had a fever by now.

A plate of food was slid under the door and I stared at it. I knew I should have been hungry but whether it was because of the pain in my face or what, I could not fathom eating. I had started to feel dizzy and drowsy as the sun had begun to set outside my prison. I could see the light stretching farther from under the door before it began to darken and eventually would disappear. I laid down on the mattress and pulled the blanket up to my torso, favoring my cheek greatly. Sleep took me soon enough.

* * *

As Jareth approached the enemy castle, he was once again struck by how ridiculously enormous the place was. It was easily eight times as wide as his own but undoubtedly shorter. Half of it laid underground, the half that was still above ground had a gigantic stained glass window with… He settled on a tree and returned to his humanoid form, staring at the window with sadness in his eyes. Sarah was in it, holding her daughter, looking down at the child with more love than Jareth had ever seen the girl exude. _'She really was happy, then, in the end,'_ he thought to himself sadly. It took a few minutes before he realized there was a sound in the distance, soft and sweet. He gracefully threw himself from the tree, transforming as he did, and flew towards it.

The sound slowly revealed itself to be a voice, a woman's voice singing a sad, beautiful song, coming from the farthest exterior windows from where the stained glass window was. Jareth settled on the ledge outside the window and peered through the glass. The room inside was dim, lit by only a candle chandelier, and was almost completely empty. Something was covering the walls but he couldn't make out what it was. Photographs, it looked like, but he couldn't be sure. Something moved in the corner of the room and he turned to it. There was a mattress on the floor and huddled up in the corner was a mound with two small blue lights looking towards the far wall. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was the girl and that the blue lights were her eyes. She stopped singing and leaned her head against the wall. Jareth's heart twisted slightly inside him and he wished so hard for the ability to just magic himself into the room, although he knew there was no way he could. This castle was outside his domain, protected with its own type of magic. He had no power here. Turning his head around, he looked to make sure nobody was near before he turned back and tapped his beak on the glass.

* * *

I woke up, I assume, a few hours later and I held myself for a while. I don't know what eventually had possessed me to start singing, but I did. There weren't words, just general, very weak vocalization, but I couldn't help it when the tears started to roll down my face again. I sat in the corner and pulled my knees towards my chest as far as I comfortably could. I stared at the only wall that wasn't covered in pictures of me. My entire body had begun to feel the effects of whatever was in my cheek, the warmth of my fever spreading throughout my veins. I was on fire and on ice at the same time but I was too numb to care anymore.

As I sang, I idly thought back to what my father had said about marrying Jareth if I had solved the Labyrinth and I pondered it for a while. _'I mean, I'm only 19 and I don't even know the guy, but… Why am I not totally against it? I mean sure he's handsome but if he's mom's friend then he must be way older than he looks.'_ I sighed quietly, letting my song stop for a minute while I thought about home again. My ears twitched at the sound of a small tapping and I looked around for a second. There was another tap, this time louder and more persistent, and I turned towards the window. On the sill outside sat a snowy owl, staring at me with a completely dilated left eye and a very lovely blue right eye. They looked familiar somehow. The owl looked at me expectantly so I forced myself to my feet and, leaning on the wall for support while my head spun with fever, shuffled over to the window. There was no latch for me to open so I just leaned against the wall, trying not to pass out.

* * *

Jareth watched as the girl pushed herself up onto her feet, a task that seemed to take way too much effort. Her clothes had been changed, he noted absently as she limped over to the window. She had examined it for a minute before resigning herself to leaning against the wall, looking at him. The shock of her appearance forced him to transform and he stared at her with wide eyes. She looked like death. Her un-injured cheek was sallow and pale, her freckles contrasting as much as a marker on paper despite the furious blush that was probably caused by fever. Her other cheek lit a furious fire in his stomach that he could feel behind his eyes and in his palms. It was swollen to twice its normal size and was turning a weird greenish color aside from where two puncture marks sat prominently in the middle of the wound. Around her neck were deep bruises in the shape of a hand.

 _He_ had bitten her.

Jareth clenched one fist and put his other hand on the window. "I'm so sorry, Jacqueline." He realized she was looking at him with as much surprise as her injuries would allow her.

"It's you," she said softly. Her voice was surprisingly smooth and gentile despite its lack of use.

He nodded slightly and clenched his fist against the window. "I'll explain everything later, but for now, I promise you, Jacqueline, I will get you out of there."

"I-It's my dad," she said, louder this time.

Jareth nodded. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't see it before, that I didn't protect you better." A tear rolled down his cheek, surprising even him, but he drew no extra attention to it.

She was beginning to sway with the effort of standing and she nodded slightly. She coughed and he could see the way her eyes quickly dilated before she refocused on him. "I think… I think I'm dying, Mr. Jareth," she said breathily.

"No." He shook his head. "I will not allow it. I promise I will get you ou—" He broke off suddenly, eyes going wide as the door behind her was slowly pushed open. Jack turned towards the door and fell to her knees as her father stepped into view. He was even larger than Jareth remembered, his eyes glowing an intense cerulean against the darkness, staring right at Jareth. "Braern," he growled.

"Jareth."

Jareth could see the glint of the larger fae's fangs in the dim lighting, a clear threat to him. Jareth put his other fist against the window, glaring daggers at the larger fae who had turned his attention towards the girl.

"Now, Jacky Baby, I don't recall saying you could have a visitor."

Jacqueline fell from her knees, leaning against the wall with the window, staring in horror at her father who had begun a slow advance. Jareth growled and banged his fists against the window. "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" he yelled, but it was too late. The girl was paralyzed with what Jareth could only guess was a mixture of the venom and fear, so it was only a matter of seconds before Braern had her by the ankle and was dragging her out of the room. Jareth threw his whole weight against the window, yelling after them, but the glass wasn't budging. The last thing Jareth saw was the girl reaching for him, a silent scream in her eyes before they were gone.

Jareth leaned against the window, breathing heavily with anger. "I promise I'll save you, Jacqueline."


End file.
